Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Small Town Utah

Well now that the whirl wind is over... I guess it's time to pick up the pieces.

Friday as soon as I could leave school I gathered all our remaining items, vacuumed my footsteps, and shut the door of number 309 forever.

I had to keep repeating over and over and over again, "Change is hard even when it's for the better". I just hate change. And I think Jason tried to laugh at me so he didn't think I was going crazy. Why in the world was it so hard to leave a place that quite frankly was pretty darn terrible. I tried not to complain. I tried to like it.... but it so many ways, it was terrible.

So off we went to the place of my childhood, St. George.

There is something really magical about summer nights in St. George. It always reminds me of the time my dad bought a little red sports car and as a reward for vacuuming out the car "late" at night with me in my nightgown he took me for a joy ride out on the Arizona Strip. He let me stand up through the sunroof and pretend I was flying. I can even faintly hear Whitney Houston in the background playing on the mixed cassette tape Honda gave with the purchase of a new car.

I love the feel of returning to something so familiar.

Or I thought I did.

Then I got here. And it hit me. I know people! Like a lot of people. Everywhere!

It makes me feel vulnerable.

But for the first time since high school, I think I am okay with it.

I'm proud of who I am and where we're headed.

Why are we here? Good question. I wanted out of our apartment/ward. Jason needed to take Anatomy. My parents have an vacant townhome in St. George for when my dad teaches at Dixie... Jason wants to get more into canyoneering and I love the pool. Oh did I mention Yogurtland and Swig are both less than a half mile away. Yes, we might be in heaven.